On the corner of Yablonska Street.
He was a welder who lived a quiet life.
His wife stands outside their destroyed home.
“I wish ‘orcs’ had killed me too.”
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
Her father stands in their destroyed home.
“I felt empty when they killed him.
I only wanted to die.”
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
“He was just a peaceful man, a family man.
Who struggled with a spine fracture, and was disabled all his life.”
“He said his final words. He asked them why.”
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
‘Orcs’ had smashed through the front gates.
Opened fire at their house.
And dragged them out into the yard.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
‘Orcs’ took him out on to the pavement.
And threw a grenade in through the front door.
That exploded and set their house on fire.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
Her father grabbed a small fire extinguisher.
And tried in vain to extinguish the flames.
“Where is he? He will help!”
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
But one of the ‘orcs’ replied, “He will not help you any more.”
She and her father found him outside the gate.
It was clear from the way he was lying.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
He had been forced to kneel.
And shot in the head at point blank range.
The ‘orcs’ soldiers who killed him “didn’t ask him anything.”
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
“‘Orcs’ didn’t ask anything or say anything.
They only told him to take off his shirt.
To kneel down, and they shot him.”
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
When his wife ran out and found his disfigured body.
Four ‘orcs’ who dragged him out were standing casually drinking water.
She screamed at them to shoot her.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
One raised his gun, then lowered it.
Then raised it again, and lowered it.
Until her father dragged her back inside the gate.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
“Those soldiers told us we had three minutes to leave.
And they forced us to run in our slippers.”
They had no choice but to leave his body lying on the street.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
“Bucha was like an apocalypse.
Dead bodies everywhere.
The streets full of smoke.”
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
His body lay there for nearly a month.
While they sheltered at a relative’s house nearby.
When it was safe to return, her father tried to bury him.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
On a rough patch of earth by the pavement.
But exhausted by the effort and afraid of ‘orcs’.
Her father carried him back inside the yard.
From the corner of Yablonska Street.
Later, ‘elves’ soldiers loaded his body into a van.
And ‘elves’ soldiers took it away.
“I have no idea how we are going to find it now.”
From the corner of Yablonska Street.
She and her father are only looking for one body.
And their fear is that they will never find it.
The killing is one of scores being uncovered in Bucha.
On the corner of Yablonska Street.
“Just before he died, while I was in the yard.
I saw him briefly through the open gate.
On his knees, and he said his final words.”
*Because I read “Bucha killings: ‘I wish they had killed me too’” by Joel Gunter, in Bucha on 6 April 2022, on the BBC News, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 April 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of Iryna, Volodymyr and Oleg.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Bucha killings: ‘I wish they had killed me too’ – BBC News
**My friend shows you this poem also on the Ukrainian website for their children and others!
Please join them!
